Other Little Soldier
by Spnchick09
Summary: Martin is an air force pilot, and is called to fight in Iraq. He has to leave his wife and son, knowing this could be the last time he sees them. Songfic, oneshot.


**A/N: This just came to me while I was listening to Josh Gracin's CD. The lyrics are from Josh Gracin's song, "The Other Little Soldier." Also, for reasons of this one-shot, Martin and his wife are older than they are in the show. Basically, they're already in their late twenties in 2005.**

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_He used to play in Daddy's uniform_

_With the stripes across the sleeve_

_And he knew when he was all grown up_

_What he was gonna be_

_He used to like to ambush_

_Every careless cat or dog_

_That had the nerve to cross_

_The battle lines that he had drawn_

Martin gazed out the window, watching his son hide behind his makeshift fort of a few cardboard boxes. He and his best friend were pretending to be at war; a situation all too real for Martin.

He'd been to Afghanistan once already, and fought for his country. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, leaving his wife and son, who was only three months old then. Now, he was almost five, and Martin was thankful for every day he spent with him.

Martin smiled, as he felt his wife's arms wrap around his waist. "Hi," he greeted her, still watching his son.

"Hi," Ruthie greeted in return.

"How was work?" he asked her.

"Fine," she stated. "I had to deal with that Brown boy again. I really hope they get him transferred," she said, referring to one of the children in her third-grade class.

Martin chuckled, turning to face her. He greeted her welcoming smile with a lingering kiss, and pulled her to the side of him, with one arm still across her shoulders.

Ruthie smiled, watching their son. "How long have they been playing?" Ruthie asked him, laughing as Hayden, their son, fixed the battle lines, made of sticks.

"As soon as I got home, he was out the door," Martin replied, laughing. "He loves that army uniform," he said, referring to his Halloween costume of the previous year.

"Yeah. It reminds him of his daddy," Ruthie said quietly, suddenly feeling the need to hold onto her husband tighter.

Martin understood what she felt, and held her close to him also. The two were always hesitant about answering the phone, especially after dark. They knew that it was quite possible Martin would be needed again in Iraq, and as much as he loved his job, he had a family as well, and the thought of leaving them along for a year, or even more, made him think twice about his career.

Ruthie left the comfort of her husband's arms to open the back door. "Hayden, come in for dinner, honey!"

"Just a minute, Mom! I'm winning!" he yelled, turning back to his friend.

Ruthie stood on the deck, and watched as Hayden "killed" his best friend. She shuddered, imagining Martin fall to the ground like that. She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind, and watched her son say goodbye, and run towards the house.

_And even though, he didn't know_

_What his dad was fightin' for_

_He was proud to be the other_

_Little soldier_

_In this war_

_Phone rang in the middle of the night_

_When they called his dad to go_

Martin woke up, hearing the phone ringing. Ruthie sat up quickly, and Martin did the same. They exchanged glances, and Martin, taking a deep breath, picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he rasped, knowing in his heart what this call was about.

Ruthie watched Martin's facial expressions, trying to get a read on this phone call.

"Okay," he said, before hanging up. Martin sank back into his pillow, sighing.

"Was that...?" Ruthie choked out, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I'm going to Iraq," he responded.

Ruthie's eyes starting becoming wet, and Martin pulled her into a tight hug.

The two sat in silence, holding one another, slowly watching the numbers on the clock roll by.

_Kissed him and his mom goodbye_

_And said, "God, I love you both..._

_"Now I know that it's a lot to ask_

_Of such a little man_

_But hold the fort and I'll be home_

_As quickly as I can..."_

Martin was dressed in his forest green uniform, covered in his accomplishments. When he wasn't going off to a war zone in his uniform, Ruthie adored it, marveling at how attractive he was in it. Yet, at times like these, she just wanted him to take it off, and throw back on some sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Martin gave his wife a passionate kiss, hugging her tightly. He desperately tried to hold back his tears, wishing he would be here tomorrow to do this.

He then bent down to his son's eye level, and took a deep breath. "I know it's a lot to ask of such a little man," he started, giving his son a weak smile. "But hold the fort, and I'll be home as quickly as I can."

Hayden nodded, hugging his father tightly. Even at the young age of five, he understood what his father was doing, and where he was going. His parents had the news on constantly, so Hayden was aware of the danger his father would be facing.

"I love you, Daddy," he whispered, slightly muffled by Martin's uniformed shoulder.

Martin took in a quick breath, as tears fell. He picked his son up, balancing him on his hip, and brought his crying wife into another hug.

"God, I love you both," he whispered, hugging his wife tighter.

Hayden looked on at his parents, both in tears, and hugged his mother as well. "It's okay, Mommy. Daddy will be home soon," he assured her.

Ruthie picked her head out from Martin's shoulder, letting a stifled laugh escape her. "I know," she whispered, looking his husband in the eyes.

He gave his wife another hard kiss, letting her know how much he loved her.

The home was silent for a few minutes, as the family of three stood together. Their silence was interrupted by the sound of a horn, which was that of Martin's taxi.

Martin let his son down, and hugged his wife hard. "God, I love you, Ruthie," he whispered, squinting his eyes shut to block out the tears.

"I love you, too," she replied, her body heaving upwards as she took a deep breath to calm her sobs.

Martin hugged his son one last time, before opening the door. "I'll be back before you know it," he said, giving a weak smile.

Ruthie nodded, watching him walk towards the taxi. She held her son on her right hip, standing in the doorway.

Martin got into the taxi, and rolled down the window. He gave one last wave at his small family, and they waved back.

"I can already tell where you're going," the taxi driver said. "You ready?"

Martin took a deep breath, and blew a kiss before shutting the window.

"Yeah."

Hayden watched the taxi drive off, and scrambled down from his mother's arms to the ground. He ran into the yard, and watched his daddy drive off.

_And even though _

_He didn't know_

_What his dad was fightin' for_

_He was proud to be the other_

_Little soldier_

_In this war_

_A wall could not begin to hold_

_The names of all the kids _

_Who gave the greatest sacrifice_

_That any child_

_Could give_

Martin had been in the Middle East for almost nine months now, and Ruthie had a calendar on her fridge, with red x's counting down the days until her husband was scheduled to return home.

After crossing off today's date, she walked to the front window. Her son was outside, pretending to fight a huge army. She smiled, remembering the day she and Martin had stood in this spot, watching Hayden play with his friend.

Ruthie's thoughts were interrupted, when a car pulled into their driveway. She started wondering who would come at this hour. She gasped when two men, dressed in uniforms, made their way to the front door.

"No...no," she started chanting. Her breaths became short and quick, and she felt like she'd be sick.

She watched Hayden's eyes widen, following the men to the doorstep.

Ruthie heard the doorbell ring, but didn't want to answer it. She didn't want to face reality.

She made her way to the door, opening it slowly.

"Mrs. Brewer?"

Ruthie merely nodded in response.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news. Can we come in?"

"Yes," she answered, leading them towards the living room.

Refusing to make eye contact with them, she showed them a couch. Hayden came and sat in a chair with her, wanting to know why these men were here.

"Mrs. Brewer, your husband was flying over Iraq two days ago, when his plane was shot down. He lived through it, but was in the hospital for three hours, before he died of internal bleeding. We're so sorry, m'am."

Ruthie couldn't, and wouldn't, speak. She looked down at the floor, starting to cry again. Her breaths came in short and detached, and Hayden finally understood. His father had been killed.

_It was the first time he'd ever seen_

_A flag from up that close_

_And he watched them as they folded it_

_So careful and so slow_

_ Ruthie and Hayden,_

_ You can't imagine how much I miss you. I think of you every day, every time I'm in my plane every time I lay down to sleep...every minute of every day._

_ Ruth,_

_I still can't believe it's only been almost nine months. It feels so much longer. _

_Each day gets harder, without waking up to your kiss; without feeling your touch. _

_I miss you more than you'll ever know, and can't wait to feel your arms around me again._

_ Hayden,_

_Holding up the fort? I'll be sure to ask your mother when I get _

_home. I miss you a lot, son. I'll be home before you know it._

_I'm coming home soon, I promise. It seems far off, but it's sooner than you _

_realize. Just keep counting down the days, like I know you're doing, Ruthie._

_Love,_

_Martin_

Ruthie had received the letter the day after hearing word of Martin's death. What he had said was true; he was coming home soon...in a coffin.

Ruthie and her son were dressed in black, and walked towards Martin's coffin. He had been flown home shortly after Ruthie was told he'd been killed.

She was clutching her son's hand, walking slowly. Her son kept his eyes on the ground, wishing he could play with his father again.

The two silently reached the coffin, and stood in front of it, as Reverend Camden began speaking.

"Martin Brewer has always been my son. From the day he moved in with us, he became family. When he and Ruthie married, I was happier than I'd ever been. They brought me a grandson, who..." Here, Eric choked up. He took a deep, tough breath, before continuing. "Who looks just like his dad. And now, I'm here, performing the funeral for my son."

Ruthie started silently bawling, tears spilling from her eyes. Each one of the Camdens were doing the same, and yet, they were all able to keep their emotions quiet.

_As they gave it to his mother,_

_He knew what he should do..._

_He raised his little hand_

_And gave his dad one last salute..._

Hayden watched the flag that had been draped over his father's coffin be taken off, as the men started folding it, carefully, and slowly.

They handed it to Ruthie, who accepted it, crying. She watched her son, who was gazing off at the coffin.

He took a few steps closer to it, and stood there for a few minutes, before raising his right hand into a salute.

_And even though _

_He didn't know_

_What his dad was fightin' for_

_He was proud to be the other_

_Little soldier_

_In this war_

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. It made me a little teary-eyed writing it, so I hope it kept you reading 'til the end. Please review. :)**


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